The Dynamism of the Spirit and the Infinite Within

(Excerpt fromW.Norris Clarke, S.J. The Philosophical Approach to God. Winston Sa

lem, N.C.: Wake Forest University Press, 1981, pages 15-28.)
The essence of the Transcendental Thomist approach to God seems to me to be this
: it has brought out of obscurity into full development St. Thomas's own profoun
d doctrine of the dynamism of the human spirit, both as intellect and will, towa
rd the Infinite--a dynamism inscribed in the very nature of man as a priori cond
ition of possibility of both his knowing and his willing activities--and then ap
plied this doctrine to ground epistemology, philosophical anthropology, metaphys
ics, and the flowering of the latter into natural theology. Using this radical d
ynamism of the human spirit to illuminate the foundations of the whole of Thomis
tic philosophy--in particular the rational ascent to God--was entirely in harmon
y with St. Thomas's own deepest thought. Let me now present briefly the essentia
l core of this analysis, insofar as I myself can take philosophical responsibili
ty for it and make it my own.
THE ASCENT THROUGH THE
DYNAMISM OF THE INTELLECT
As we reflect on the activities of our knowing power, we come to recognize it as
an-inexhaustible dynamism of inquiry, ever searching to lay hold more deeply an
d widely on the universe of reality. It is impossible to restrict its horizon of
inquiry to any limited area of reality, to any goal short of all that there is
to-know-about all there is. For our experience of knowing reveals to us that eac
h time we come to know some new object or aspect of reality we rest in it at fir
st, savoring and exploring its intelligibility as far as we can. But as soon as
we run up against its limits and discover that it is finite, the mind at once re
bounds farther, reaching beyond it to wherever else it leads, to whatever else t
here is-to-be-known beyond it. This process continues indefinitely in ever-expan
ding and ever-deepening circles. As we reflect on the significance of this inexh
austible and unquenchable drive toward the fullness of all there is to know, we
realize that the only adequate goal of our dynamism of knowing is the totality o
f all beingâ ¢ We live mentally, therefore, as they express it, in "the horizon of bei
ng"--or, as St. Thomas himself puts it in his own technical terminology, the onl
y adequate formal object of the human mind is being itself.
This means that the mind must have a dynamic a priori orientation, an aptitude o
r affinity, for all that is, for the totality of being--an aptitude that constit
utes it precisely as a knowing nature in the intellectual and not merely the sen
sible order. Now every dynamism or active potency, St. Thomas holds, has its goa
l already inscribed in it in some way, in the mode of final cause, as that towar
d which it naturally tends, as that which naturally attracts or draws it to itse
lf, and therefore as that which is somehow already present to it. In a dynamism
which is as self-aware as ours is--aware not only of the contents of its knowled
ge, but also of its own activity of knowing and radical desire to know--there mu
st accordingly be a dim, obscure, implicit, but nonetheless real awareness of th
is goal as drawing it.
This means that the mind has, from its first conscious movement from emptiness t
oward fulfillment, a kind of implicit, pre-conceptual, anticipatory grasp or for
etaste of being as the encompassing horizon and goal of all its inquires. As Kar
l Rahher and the Germans like to put it, this is not a Begriff (i.e., an explici
t, thematized concept or distinct idea of being); it is rather a Vorgriff (i.e,
a pre-conceptual, implicit, unthematized, anticipatory awareness of being presen
t to the mind as its goal, as its connatural good drawing it). This is to live m
entally within the horizon of being. It is because of this innate a pr/or/ orien
tation that all our questions are directed toward being: "Is this the case? What
is this? How is it?" All the answers, too, to our determinate inquiries are fra
med against the background of being. All our judgments reflect, at least implici
tly, this insertion of our knowledge into the horizon of being. The "is" of bein
g-- is the hidden backdrop and frame of all our assertions. We continually say,
"This is, that is, this is such and such." and by so doing we insert some limite
d essence or aspect of the real in its place in the whole of being. Thus we asse
rt implicitly the participation of all finite essences or modes of being in the
ultimate, all-pervasive attribute of all things, the very act of presence or exi
stence itself, expressed by the inconspicuous but omnipresent "is" that in some
equivalent way is the inner form of all human judgments.
This a priori orientation toward being--with its implicit pre-conceptual awarene
ss of being by connatural affinity and desire, as we know a good by being drawn
to it--is a genuine a priori presence of being to the human mind constitutive of
its very nature as a dynamic faculty. It is not, however, a Cartesian innate id
ea, since it is not present as a clear and distinct conceptual content, and take
s a long experience of conscious, reflective knowing before it can emerge into e
xplicit conscious awareness expressible in conceptual form. The entire mental li
fe of man consists in gradually filling in this at first conceptually empty and
indeterminate but limitless horizon of being with increasingly determinate conce
ptual comprehension, as we step by step come to know one part of this totality a
fter another.
Let us further analyze this vague and indeterminate horizon of being which defin
es ahead of time the whole enterprise of human knowing and is present to it in a
n implicit, pre-conceptual lived awareness, as a connatural attracting goal, fro
m the first breath of intellectual life.
The first point we notice is that no limits can be set to this field of intentio
nality, this anticipated horizon of being. Any attempt to do so immediately stim
ulates the mind to leap 'beyond these limits in intentional thrust and desire. T
hus this horizon or totality of being-to-be-known appears at first as an indefin
ite, indeterminate, but unlimited and unlimitable field, a field to which no det
erminate limits can be set.
What is the actual content of this field field? There are only two alternatives.
If the actual content of being is nothing but an endless or indefinite field of
all finite entities or intelligible structures, the dynamism of the mind is doo
med to endless rebounding from one-finite to another, with no final satisfaction
or unqualified fulfillment- ever attainable, or even possible.Our restless, unq
uenchable search has no actually existing final goal. It trails off endlessly in
to ever-receding, always finite horizons, its inexhaustible abyss of longing and
capacity ever unfilled and in principle unfillable. Once we postulate that this
situation is definitive and cannot be overcome--that there is no proportion bet
ween the depths of our capacity, the reach of our mind, and what there is for it
actually to grasp--the very possibility arouses a profound metaphysical restles
sness and sadness within us; the dynamism of our mind turns out to be a strange
existential surd, an anomaly. It is a dynamism ordered precisely toward a non-ex
istent goal; a drive through all finites toward nothing; an innate, inextinguish
able summons to frustration: a living absurdity. Sartre would indeed be right.
The other possibility is that somewhere hidden within this unlimited horizon of
being there exists an actually infinite Plenitude of Being, in which all other b
eings participate yet of which they are but imperfect images. This actually Infi
nite Plenitude St. Thomas describes not as a particular being--with its connotat
ion of determinate limits setting it off from other equally finite beings--but r
ather as the pure subsistent plenitude of be-ing, of the act of existence itself
, Ipsum Esse Subsistens, pure subsistent to-be. It now becomes the adequate, tot
ally fulfilling goal of the dynamism of our minds, matching superabundantly the
inexhaustible abyss of our own capacity and desire to know: one abyss, a negativ
e one, calling out to another, a positive one. As the German mystical poet Angel
us Silesius so beautifully put it, "The abyss in me calls out to the abyss in Go
d. Tell me, which is deeper?" The existence of this Infinite Center of being (ob
viously it would have to be actually existent, for if it were merely possible, n
othing else could bring it into existence and it would be in fact impossible) no
w gives full intelligibility to the horizon of being itself, as its unifying cen
ter and source, and also confers full and magnificent intelligibility on the nat
ural dynamism of my mind and the whole intellectual life arising out of it. This
implies, of course, that it is in some way possible, if only as a loving gift o
riginating from
the Center, for me to achieve actual union with this ultimate fullness, the ulti
mate Whereunto of my whole intellectual life.
At this point the objection naturally arises--and it deserves the most careful c
onsideration and personal reflection to test out its validity concretely in our
inner life--why there cannot be a third alternative. Why could it not be that th
e human mind would be adequately fulfilled and entirely content as long as it wa
s assured of an unending series of finites to know and enjov, assured of inexhau
stible novelty? I am well aware that such an alternative may seems-plausible at
first blush. But working through it carefully in a thought experiment will, I th
ink, show clearly enough that it must finally collapse. Such an alternative must
be set in a framework of immortality and eternity of time; otherwise the series
would come to an end without fulfillment; fulfillment depends necessarilv in th
is conception on the unending sequence. In this perspective, surely a series of
endless repetitions of the same kind of finite satisfactions, a mere quantitativ
e repetition, would eventually pall on us and leave us open again to a profound
and insatiable restlessness. For the human mind--and willâ has a remarkable and-wonde
rful capacity to transcend whole series at a time, to sum up their quality if no
t their quantity; and if the former remains always finite, the mind at once leap
s beyond the whole series questing for a qualitatively more, a richer.
To sum up the whole point I am making, we have not really taken full possession
of our own inner dynamism of inquiry until we keep penetrating to its profoundes
t depths and suddenly become aware in a kind of flash of self-discovery precisel
y that its very nature is to be an inexhaustible abyss that can comprehend and l
eap beyond any finite or-series of finites, unending or not. This involves perha
ps more existential self-discovery than logical or abstract reasoning.
The last point I would like to make is that for many people the notion of an Inf
inite Plenitude and union with it carries with it a certain block, because this
is conceived as a static state--finished once and for all with nothing further g
oing on, carrying with it its own hint of boredom. But there is no reason at all
to conceive the infinite and total fulfillment through union with it in this wa
y. It is more natural to think of it as a fullness out of which continually and
spontaneously overflow free creative expressions of ecstatic joy. These are not
necessary steps on the way to achieve fulfillment, but a natural spontaneous ove
rflow of expression because we have reached it. There would still be endless nov
elty, but no longer as fulfilling ever-unsatiated need.
Now that we have again reduced our ultimate alternatives to two, the crucial que
stion arises: which of these two is actually the case? Which should I opt for? W
hich is the more reasonable to opt for? On the one hand is the acceptance of mys
elf, in the profoundest depths of my intellectual nature, as a living frustratio
n, an existential absurdity, ordered ineluctably toward a simply non-existent go
aI, magnetized, so to speak, by the abyss of nothingness, of what is not and can
never be--a dynamism doomed eternally to temporary gratification but permanent
unfulfillment. On the other hand lies the acceptance of my nature as drawn, magn
etized toward an actually existing, totally fulfilling goal, which confers upon
it total and magnificent meaningfulness and opens out before it a destiny filled
with inexhaustible light-and hope. On-the one hand; the darkness of ultimate no
thingness of what can never be; on the other, the fullness of ultimate Light, wh
ich already awaits our coming.
How is this most radical of all options to be decided? The founder of Transscend
ental Thomism, Joseph Marechal--and perhaps most others in this tradition--insis
t that the structure of human thought as oriented toward Infinite Being is a nec
essary a priori structure or condition of possibility of all our thinking. We ca
nnot help, if we think at all, living in the limitless horizon of being and tend
ing toward the fullness of being as fulfilling goal; we cannot help but make all
our judgements by affirming every finite being against the implicit background
of the infinite, as stepping-stones toward the infinite. "Man is an embodied aff
irmation of the Infinite," as Father Donceel likes to put it. We can conceptuall
y and verbally deny the existence of this Infinite as the ultimate Whereunto of
our whole drive to know. But the very exercise of the mind even in the most ordi
nary everyday affirmation implicitly reaffirms what we explicitly deny, putting
us not in a logical but in a lived contradiction with ourselves. We are committe
d a priori, by nature, to the affirmation of the reality of the infinite--whethe
r we call it by the term "being" or some other, or only point to it in eloquent
silence--no matter how much we deny it on the conscious, explicit level of our k
nowing.
There is much to be said for this strong position. However, I myself prefer to d
ig a little deeper, if possible, and move the option into the realm of a radical
existential decision in the order of freedom, of free self-assumption of our ow
n nature as gift. For it does seem that the above argument for the rigorous nece
ssity of this implicit affirmation of God in all knowing rests on the tacit assu
mption that the dynamism of my intelligence does actually make ultimate sense, i
s not a radical absurdity, and hence must have some really existing final goal,
since an existing dynamism without goal would be unintelligible. Yet modern man-
-as Sartre, Camus, and others have shown us --does seem to have an astonishing c
apacity for self-negation as well as self-affirmation, irrational as this may be
. Man is the being who can affirm or deny his own rationality.
Hence it seems to me that there is no logical argument by which one can be force
d to choose one side of the option rather than the other, light rather than dark
ness. The issue lies beyond the level of rational or logical argument, because i
t is at the root of all rationality. Hence I would like to propose it as a radic
al option open to man's freedom, where he is free to assume his own rational nat
ure as gift and follow its natural call to total fulfillment, or else to reject
this call and refuse to commit himself, on the level of conscious affirmation an
d deliberately lived belief, to the summons of his nature calling from the depth
s of the dynamism of intelligence as such. All the light lies on one side, and o
ur whole nature positively pulls us in this direction; only ultimate darkness li
es on the other, and cannot pull us as either rational or good. But we do remain
free. I am willing to allow, to make this radical assumption, to accept our own
nature, or to reject it. This existential choice, obscure and implicit though i
t may be (and though it may never reach the conceptual clarity and explicitness
of a choice for "God" or "no God"), is still the most important choice of our li
ves, giving ultimate form and meaning to the whole.
If I accept and listen to this radical innate pull of my nature
as intellectual being, if I accept this nature gratefully and humbly as a gift,
I will affirm with conviction the existence of the ultimate Fullness and Center
of all being, the lodestar that draws my intelligence ever onward, even though t
his ultimate goal remains for me at present only obscurely discerned, seen throu
gh a mirror darkly, pointed to beyond all conceptual grasp as the mystery of ine
xhaustible Light, a Light that with my present, body-obscured vision I cannot di
rectly penetrate or master with my own powers, but that renders all else intelli
gible.
THE ASCENT THROUGH THE DYNAMISM OF THE WILL
The same process of discovery works even more powerfully and effectively--from t
he point of view of its psychological impact--when applied to the correlative dy
namism of the human will, operating within the limitless horizon of being as the
good, as the valuable and lovable. Reflecting on the operation of my human will
, I come to discover or unveil the nature of this faculty, or active potency in
Thomistic terms, as an unrestricted and inexhaustible drive toward the good, as
presented by my intelligence. Our entire life of willing, desiring, loving, avoi
ding, is carried on within the horizon of the good, the formal object of the wil
l as such. But this horizon of being as the good, like that of being as truth fo
r the intellect, reveals itself to be also unlimited, unbounded. The process of
discovery is similar. Each time we take possession of some new finite good, we a
re temporarily satisfied as we explore and enjoy its goodness for us. But again,
as soon as we discover its limits, its finitude, our wills at once spontaneousl
y rebound beyond, in prospective desire and longing for further fulfillment. Ove
r and over throughout our lives this process is repeated.
Reflecting now on this process as a whole, we can disengage its meaning in the l
ight of its final cause or goal. Its ultimate goal, through which alone this dyn
amism--like any dynamism--is rendered intelligible, can be nothing less than the
 totality of the good, whatever that may turn out-to be. There is, therefore, in
the will a dynamic a priori orientation toward the good as such--i.e., a natura
l affinity, connaturality, aptitude for the good, which is written into the very
nature of the will as dynamic faculty before any particular experience of an in
dividual good, and defines this nature as such. Everything it desires and loves
it loves as good, as situated within this all-embracing horizon of the good, as
participating in some way in the transcendental character of goodness.
Now this a priori orientation and natural affinity for the good implies that the
will, in order to recognize and respond to a good when it finds it, must have w
ritten within it--analogously to the intellect--a pre-conceptual "background con
sciousness," an anticipatory grasp--unthematized or implicit, obscure and indist
inct--of the good as somehow present in its very depths, magnetizing and attract
ing it, luring it on to actual fulfillment of its innate potentiality by distinc
t conscious appropriations of actually existing concrete goods. This is what it
means to live volitively in the horizon of the good. The entire life of the will
consists in filling in determinately and concretely this unbounded, all-embraci
ng, indeterminate, intentional horizon of the good as anticipated field of all p
ossible fulfillment. As Plato said long ago in the Meno, in one of his profounde
st insights, in any inquiry or search, unless we somehow dimly and implicitly kn
ew ahead of time what we were looking for, we would never recognize an answer as
an answer to our search. The passage is not from total non-knowledge or absence
of the good to knowledge or presence, but from implicit and indistinct to expli
cit and distinct awareness. As St. Thomas put it in a striking formula, often hi
ghlighted by Transcendental Thomists, "Every knower knows God implicitly in anyt
hing it knows." Similarly, every will implicitly loves God in anything it loves.
We must now analyze more precisely what must be the content of this unlimited ho
rizon of the good, ever-present by anticipation as implicit "background consciou
sness" in the will and drawing it like a lodestar or hidden magnet. This analysi
s can be set, if one wishes, in the outer form of an Aristotelian demonstration;
but in fact its inner soul is the drawing out into explicitness of what is alre
ady necessarily contained implicitly in the life of the will, if the latter is n
ot to collapse into unintelligibility. The horizon of the good appears to us fir
st as a vague, indefinite, indeterminate totality. It must be somehow a unity, f
irst because of the analogous similarity of all that draws the will as good, sec
ond because the unity of any dynamism or active potency is at least partly depen
dent on the unity of its goal. A totally unrelated multiplicity of final goals w
ould fragment the unity of the dynamism into an unintelligible, unintegrated mul
tiplicity of drives. Now as we analyze the dynamism of the will, as above, we di
scover that no finite particular good can be its adequate final goal, for it at
once rebounds beyond any finite object once its limits have been discovered. And
just as no one finite can satisfy adequately this drive, neither can any sum of
all finite members, not even an endless series of all finite goods. Once the mi
nd has gathered, in a single synthetic act of comprehension, the meaning of the
whole series, and realizes that this is all there ever will be, or can be, it th
en-becomes clear that the will would be doomed to an endless unfulfilledness; it
would be an unfillable, insatiable abyss of longing--in a word,an ultimate frus
tration, an ontological surd. It would be an actually existing dynamism, ordered
by an a priori orientation constitutive of its very nature--about which, theref
ore, it can do nothing--ordered precisely toward a non-existent final goal; an a
ctive potency ordered toward nothing proportionate to its potentiality; an innat
e drive toward nothing.
The only other alternative is that within this limitless, indeterminate horizon
of the good lies hidden as its center and source an actually existing Infinite P
lenitude of Goodness, not this or that particular good, but the Good itself, sub
sisting in its all its essential unparticipated fullness, from which all finite
goods possess their limited goodness by participation. In this case the dynamism
of the human will takes on ultimate and magnificent sense, is ordered toward a
totally fulfilling final goal which must be at least possible for it to obtain (
whether by its own power or by free gift is not yet clear), and the whole of hum
an life takes on the structure of hope rather than of frustra-tion and absurdity
.
Again, as in the case of the drive of the intellect toward being as truth, we ar
e brought up against a radical option. To which alternative shall we--ought we--
commit ourselves? Again, some of the Transcendental Thomists say that whether we
like it or not we are committed by the dynamism of final causality built into o
ur nature to affirm implicitly the actual existence of the Infinite Good, since
if it were only possible it would actually be impossible, as we have seen. If we
deny it on the conscious conceptual and verbal level, as we are free to do, we
put ourselves in a state of lived not logical--contradiction between the actual
use of our power of willing and what we say about it. As St. Thomas would say, a
ll lovers implicitly love God in each thing they love.
But again, as I proposed above in the case of the intellect, this stand, impress
ive and defensible though it may be, still seems to me to presuppose as already
accepted the intelligibility of the life of the will, and modern man has the abi
lity to put the very intelligibility of his own nature radically in question. He
nce prefer again to propose the option as appealing to the radical freedom of ea
ch human person to assume or reject, freely, the ultimate meaningfulness of his
or her own human nature as power of willing and loving the good. No logical argu
ment can force me to choose one alternative over the other. Yet the luminous ful
lness of meaningfulness draws me with the whole spontaneous pull of my nature to
ward the real existence of the Infinite Good as a magnet fully adequate to, even
far exceeding, the profoundest imaginable reaches of my capacity for love. Full
intelligibility lies only this way. On the other side, there is only the prospe
ct of an endless chain of unfinished and unfinishable business, trailing off int
o the darkness of ultimate frustration--an abyss to whose profoundest longing cr
y there can be no responsive echo. If I humbly and gratefully accept my nature w
ith its natural pull toward the Infinite as a meaningful gift, I will commit mys
elf to affirm--and to reach out with anticipatory, hope-filled love toward--a Ce
nter of Infinite Goodness as actually existing and somehow possible for me to be
united with, though veiled from me at present in mystery.
This approach to God through the dynamism of the will toward the good has a far
more powerful appeal to most people than the approach through the intellect alon
e as ordered toward truth. Many people, at least in certain moods and at certain
times of their lives, feel that they could do without the fullness of knowledge
; at least its drawing power is not overwhelming. But there is nobody, intellect
ual or not, who is not constantly and wholeheartedly longing for happiness. This
is the deepest and most urgent of all drives in man--in fact, the dynamo behind
all others. For as St. Thomas points out, unless possessing the truth appeared
to us as a good attracting the will, we would not be drawn to seek knowledge at
all.
I would like to share with you, as an example, an actual case from my own experi
ence. One day I was being driven in a cab in New York City. The cab driver being
very talkative, I decided to turn the conversation to some useful purpose. So I
asked him if he was happy. "No, too many problems," he answered. "What would ma
ke you happy then?" I asked. "Give me a million dollars and all my problems woul
d be solved. I'd be a happy man and could enjoy life." "All right," I replied, "
you have the million dollars. Now what?" Then he said he would pay off all his d
ebts. "All right, they are paid. Now what?" Then he said he would buy a house. S
everal, in fact. "Done," I replied. "Now what?" Then he got himself a nice wife-
-in fact several, in different cities. "Done. Now what?" Then he traveled, went
through a whole long set of things he wanted to do; and each time I replied the
same: "Granted. Now what?" Finally he began to quiet down. Then he suddenly turn
ed all the way around, in the middle of traffic, giving me quite a scare, and sa
id: "Say, there's something funny going on here. I can't seem to get to the bott
om of all this. What am I really looking for after all?" He had suddenly totaled
up the whole series, past and to come, and caught the point. Then I began...
DYNAMISM OF THE SPIRIT
AS THE IMAGE OF GOD IN MAN
Before leaving this topic, we should not fail to note that this Thomistic analys
is of the dynamism of the spirit also provides us with a profound metaphysical a
nalysis of the ancient religious-mystical-philosophical doctrine of man as the i
mage of God, principally through the intellect and will. For man to be trulv the
image of God in any strong sense, it would seem appropriate (necessary?) that t
here be some mark or manifestation of the divine infinity itself in man. This ob
viously cannot be a positive infinite plenitude; that is proper to God alone. Bu
t there can be an image of the divine infinity in silhouette--in reverse, so to
speak--within man, precisely in his possession of an infinite capacity for God,
or, more accurately, a capacity-for the Infinite, which can be satisfied by noth
ing less. This negative image points unerringly toward the positive infinity of
its original, and is intrinsically constituted by this relation of tendential ca
pacity. It is as though--as with the ancient myths--God had broken the coin of H
is infinity in two, holding on to the positive side Himself and giving us the ne
gative side, then launching us into the world of finites with the mission to sea
rch until we have matched our half-coin with His. By this only we shall know tha
t we have reached the goal of our lives, our final happiness.
In connection with this notion of the dynamism of the spirit as a veiled revelat
ion of ourselves as image of God, I would like to share with you an interesting
experiment I have tried with marked success on many student groups and individua
l people. It is an attempt to answer the common complaint one so often hears: wh
y is it that God remains so obscure and difficult to find? With His omnipotent p
ower, you would think it would be the easiest thing in the world for Him to reve
al Himself with perfect clarity to almost anybody, without having to pass throug
h the obscurity of faith or the difficulty of philosophical argument.
My answer is this. All right, suppose you are God, omniscient and omnipotent. No
w suppose you wanted to manifest your true nature to men, as Infinite Spirit. Yo
u can use any means--but not faith, or direct mystical experience, because most
people are not prepared for that and could not receive it or interpret it proper
ly; it takes a long process of purification to be able to receive it without dis
tortion. You think it would be such an easy job--if you were God. Go ahead and t
ry. What would you do?
Some come up with sensational physical cures. I laugh, and point out that some h
igher space-man could do that. Others would produce great natural cataclysms, wh
irling planets, and so forth. I point out that these things do presuppose a much
higher power than ours, but not an infinite power, let alone a pure spirit. I k
eep on knocking down every physical or psychic feat they produce as nowhere near
the mark. When they have finally given up, I suggest that maybe it's not such a
n easy thing to do after all, even for God. Maybe God, too, has His own problems
with self-manifestation to man.
Then I suggest that there may perhaps be only one way (one or two bright ones oc
casionally think of it first) even for God to do this: by leaving some mark of H
is infinity directly imprinted within us. But the only kind possible is a negati
ve infinity of capacity and longing, which can only be matched by His own self,
and hence, even though it gives us no positive clear picture of Him, nevertheles
s serves us as guide to eliminate all other contenders less than Himself for our
final goal. Thus this apparently obscure way of revealing Himself may in fact b
e the best if not the only one available, given our situation and His. If we exp
lore it all the way to its depths, our dynamism for the infinite turns out to be
a remarkably eloquent reverse image and pointer toward God as He is in Himself,
beyond all possible finites.